Matthew 14:13–16 · 2 Corinthians 10:3–5
John the Baptist was beheaded. Jesus Himself said there was no one born of women greater than John. He was righteous. He was faithful. And yet he was imprisoned, silenced, and murdered, not on a battlefield, but in a prison cell, at the request of a young dancer, as part of a calculated attempt to hide sin within a king’s household. John was not just a prophet. He was Jesus’ family.
And when Jesus heard the news, Scripture says He withdrew to a secluded place. Most of us instinctively know why. Jesus withdrew to pray. This was not avoidance. This was not weakness. This was wisdom. Jesus often withdrew to lonely places to pray, but this moment was different. This was grief. This was injustice. This was personal. And if Jesus was fully human, as Scripture declares, then this moment would have carried a storm of emotions: sorrow, anger, confusion, even questions that pressed hard against the soul. The battle was not external. The battle was in the mind.
And Jesus knew something we often forget: Battles of the mind must be fought before God, not before people.
I suffer from asthma. It came later in life. There are triggers, laughter, exertion, sudden strain. My wife often checks “take your pump with you “. When an attack comes, I don’t argue with it. I don’t power through it. I withdraw, take out my blue pump, take a deep breath, pause and only when my breathing is restored do I return to what I was doing. The relief is immediate. Order is restored in my body. I can function again.
Jesus models the same principle for prayer. When the pressure surged, when the emotions threatened to cloud the mind and disturb the heart, He withdrew. He knew that “the weapons of our warfare are not of the flesh, but divinely powerful for the destruction of strongholds.” He took every thought captive to the obedience of God before it could take Him captive. Prayer was not optional, it was oxygen.
After that time alone with the Father, Scripture tells us something remarkable: When Jesus came back, He saw the crowd and He felt compassion. After prayer, Jesus felt the correct emotion and made the correct decision. The disciples wanted to send the people away. After prayer, Jesus fed them. Prayer reset His heart. Prayer recalibrated His emotions. Prayer realigned Him with the will of God. Prayer was medicine and treatment for the soul. It is essential.
We too have such “asthmatic attacks” of the flesh. Surges of anger. Waves of discouragement. Impulses of lust. Floods of self-pity, pride, resentment, fear. If left untreated, these attacks will drag us away. If indulged, they will end in sin. The problem is not that the attack comes. The problem is when we refuse to take the medicine, prayer. Instead of praying, we react. Instead of withdrawing, we vent.
Instead of kneeling, we justify. And then we wonder how we fell.
Like chronic illness, the flesh may not be cured overnight, but it can be managed. Scripture does not just diagnose the condition; it provides the treatment. Prayer is not a religious activity, it is survival. So, take your pump with you. Withdraw early. Pray honestly. Bring thoughts and emotions captive before they become actions. Because when we return from prayer, we return able to feel rightly, decide wisely, and act obediently. Prayer is the reset button that restores sanity to the soul.
Prayer
Father God, teach us to withdraw before we react. Forgive us for fighting spiritual battles with carnal strength. When emotions rise and thoughts rage, draw us into Your presence. Train us to take every thought captive before it takes us captive. Restore our breath through prayer. Reset our hearts through Your Spirit. And send us back into life aligned with Your will, Your compassion, and Your wisdom. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
Quote: Prayer realigns the mind before it rewrites the moment.